Princess Tutu’s seventh episode represented a serious break from the show’s initially episodic nature, offering a sequence of revelations that each undercut the simplicity of “Tutu must spend each episode seeking a shard and ultimately returning it to Mytho.” We learned that Drosselmeyer truly has been dead for a long time, and that his goal in setting up this narrative was nothing more lofty than finding a way to amuse himself. We also witnessed the first sequence of actual, meaningful communication between Mytho and Tutu, where Mytho’s initial fear of her ultimately gave way to a genuine desire to see her task completed. And finally, we received direct confirmation that Rue and the raven are at the very least dramatically linked, if not the same person. As Tutu nears the end of its first half, it seems clear that the magical girl template which sustained its early episodes is beginning to fray, and its characters are starting to test their narrative bonds.
Then again, characters testing their narrative bonds, and questioning the validity of their assigned roles, has been a constant for Tutu from the start. So it goes for this episode’s opening monologue, which tells a story of a warrior and a sword who each had to destroy the people they love. For the warrior, it was “in order to protect his friend, he took that friend’s life.” For the sword, “in order to protect peace, it had no choice but to kill the one who wielded it.” This warrior and sword lack the certainty of Drosselmeyer’s usual narratives; instead, the monologue ends on the ambiguous “they had no choice, but was that really what they ought to have done? Uncertain of the answer even now, they wander aimlessly.”
It’s easy enough to map this particular fairy tale to Princess Tutu’s narrative – Fakir seems to represent both warrior and sword, while Mytho is the friend and wielder who must suffer for the good of all. Fakir’s perspective has remained consistent: emotion represents obligation and pain for Mytho, and thus the best route for him is the absence of emotion altogether. But it also reflects this particular episode’s distinct focus: the ambiguity of justice, and the fact that different people will often arrive at contradictory views of what is morally right. It’s a nuanced point for what’s ostensibly a children’s show. We can all be certain we’re doing the “right thing,” but the limitations of our perspective and the diversity of our potential desires means a dozen heroes can all be simultaneously fighting for justice at the same time they cut each other to the ground.
It’s fitting, then, that this episode’s title and play inspiration each seem to champion the perspective of one of its heroes – Fakir with “The Warrior’s Fountain,” and Ahiru with “Romeo and Juliet.” On Fakir’s side, as he tends to Mytho in the wake of Kraehe’s attack, it seems clear that he’s fighting a losing battle. Mytho himself now acknowledges that Tutu is attempting to help him, and has enough selfhood to ask “don’t I need to regain my heart?” It’s abundantly clear that Fakir cares deeply about Mytho, but as Mytho’s feelings lean towards supporting Tutu, Fakir seems naturally driven towards more desperate measures.
On Tutu’s side, the gestures towards Romeo and Juliet seem more playful than truly revealing. Ahiru opens the episode by asking “where are you, Mytho?” as she searches the town, and her later attempts to get him to come to his window prompt her friends to actually highlight the situation as “Romeo and Juliet in reverse.” Of course, the original line they’re riffing on is “wherefore art thou Romeo,” which doesn’t mean “where are you, Romeo” – it means “why are you Romeo,” challenging why Romeo and Juliet must each be attached to the roles their families have laid out for them. It’s a sigh of frustration that as not just Romeo, but Romeo Montague, Juliet’s love is destined never to be fulfilled. In the context of the original line, Ahiru’s plea works as well for herself as it does for Mytho – “why are you trapped in this tragic tale, and why am I a duck that will never earn the right to love you.”
The arrival of Ahiru’s friends leads into this episode’s one lighter segment, which does its best to make up for in energy and aesthetic cleverness what it lacks in length. Their decision to force a confession out of Ahiru is complemented by many of the show’s classic layered compositions and great expressions, but I was particularly impressed by the brief sequence of Ahiru being dragged across town by her friends. The combination of exaggerated wipe transitions, the fact that their direction keeps reversing after each transition, and the persistent visual tempo of their goofy hopping movement played naturally against the rambling certainty of their conversation, making it feel tonally natural that Ahiru would get carried along by their ploy.
In spite of Ahiru’s friends’ scheming, it’s actually Mytho who runs across Ahiru – but before they can really connect, Fakir interrupts, and physically threatens Ahiru for the first time. From here, the episode hones in the compelling contradiction of their individual ideas of justice. After declaring that “I want to save Mytho from Fakir,” Ahiru soon learns that her violent perception of Fakir is only that; Fakir is only cruel to the girl he sees as a threat to Mytho, and is otherwise a gruff but generally compassionate young man. And for his part, though Fakir curses and even strikes Mytho for demanding to see Tutu, it is also clear that he’s acting from desperation born from concern for Mytho. His dedication to Mytho’s safety is made viscerally clear when he goes to retrieve Mytho’s sword, shedding his own blood in that titular warrior’s fountain in order that Mytho’s suffering might be spared. In a story without so many contradictory ideas of justice, Fakir would certainly make for a gallant warrior.
Ultimately, only Drosselmeyer benefits from the clash of all these heroic actors. As Ahiru fights for Mytho’s emotions, Fakir fights on behalf of Mytho’s safety, and Rue fights to remember who she is at all, Drosselmeyer gleefully notes that “the value of a treasure is most clear when it is fought over.” Rue is revealed to be the unknowing bearer of the alternate persona Kraehe, but is swiftly cast aside in the clash between Fakir and Tutu. And showing both personal agency and deep concern for the people who care about him, Mytho raises the sword to shatter his own heart… only to be swayed at last by Tutu’s unexpected words.
Ahiru’s key statement, the line that finally reaches Mytho, is “I can’t save you from the suffering, because all I can do is return your heart to you.” As tears emphasize the truth of her words, it’s clear at last that Ahiru doesn’t just want to return Mytho’s heart because that’s what she’s been told to do, or led to believe will lead him to happiness. Ahiru understands the consequences of her actions – through all of these episodic trials, she’s learned that emotions are not unequivocally happy things, and that returning Mytho’s heart to him will bring him much grief as well as happiness. In articulating her uncertainty here, Ahiru seems to reach Fakir as well, convincing him that not only is Princess Tutu genuinely dedicated to Mytho’s happiness, but she understands his own fears, and has decided that her course is best even in the knowledge of those fears. Telling someone their concerns are invalid is rarely an effective way of reaching them; telling them you understand their concerns completely, and sympathize, is a far more likely way of reaching their heart.
Confronted with the truth of Princess Tutu’s empathy and understanding, Fakir at last relents, and lets Mytho make his own choice. Taking up his heart shard, Mytho asks Tutu to restore it, and one more trial is complete. There is still much sorrow in this world, and as Ahiru’s tearful exit demonstrates, a happy ending for everyone still seems like an impossibility. But if Ahiru and Fakir can continue to find such fragments of common compassion, they might eventually come to understand each other, and perhaps realize their true foe lies beyond the page.
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